


Never Let Me Go

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle and Lacey are the same person, F/M, Minor Character Death, Past Infidelity, Past Relationship(s), This Lacey is very Belle like, they should share a tag but here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: Bonded together by tragedy, Lacey and Gold shared an intense relationship that ended when she split town. Lacey has spent the past five years trying to move on, while Gold has been stuck in a town that never seems to change. When Lacey is forced to return to Storybrooke, she is faced with the demons of her past and the fear that she made the wrong choice all those years ago.
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Lacey/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 28
Kudos: 62





	1. Homecoming

_Tuesday Morning_

His world upended in Granny’s Diner on an otherwise average Tuesday in mid October.

Autumn had finally arrived after a summer that stretched on for far too long, the heat lingering above the steaming asphalt and sweaty shop windows well into September. But now the air was cool and crisp, the sun shining through sparse clouds in a blue sky. The leaves were changing, reds and golds encroaching on green and the leaf peepers had come up from the cities to line his pockets in search of antiques.

It was Gold’s most lucrative time of year and he typically loved autumn, the break in the heat good for both body and business.

On this otherwise average Tuesday, he’d been in a fine mood. He’d awoken early that morning to birdsong outside his window. He’d put on his favorite suit and, because the weather was so fine, he’d walked in to town, the slight exercise stretching the bad joint in his ankle and relieving some of the usual pain. If Gold reflected, later, on what had made that morning so very peaceful and nice he would realize that he’d gone a full morning without thinking of her once, no mean feat in a town filled with memories. Because he had walked to town, he’d been able to bypass Maple Street and the flower shop on the corner. He’d approached Main Street from Pine instead and The Rabbit Hole was to his back as well as the empty library where he’d first seen her so many years ago. None of the usual reminders were there to torture him and he’d taken a seat in the booth at Granny’s, opting for a stack of pancakes in addition to his usual black coffee. Gold rarely indulged in his sweet tooth, but his uncharacteristically good mood had him longing for a treat.

He’d opened the paper, reading through the business pages and taking his time with his breakfast, in no rush to be off to work on such a fine day. And then he heard the words that turned the maple syrupy sweetness in his mouth to ash.

“When’s Lacey getting here?”

Gold choked a bit, grabbing his napkin from beside his plate to mask his discomfort. He swallowed down the suddenly tasteless mash in his mouth with a grimace, looking askance at Ashley Boyd who was clearing the table next to him with Ruby Lucas.

“Thursday,” Ruby said with a wide smile. She let out a little squeal, dancing in place, the clack of her heels against linoleum punctuating the declaration. “I can’t wait. You know I haven’t seen her in the flesh in five years?”

Ashley hefted a tub of dirty dishes on to her hip, letting out a wistful sigh.

“I don’t know why she’s coming back,” she said. “If I ever managed to get out of this dump I’d be in no hurry to return.”

Ruby just shrugged. “Home is where the heart is, right? Maybe she’s homesick.”

“For what?” Ashley said with a snort. “Little opportunity and high rent?”

She shot a nasty look at Gold’s table and he set his napkin down beside his plate, pretending not to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

Ruby rolled her eyes as she finished wiping down the table, stuffing the rag into the waistband of her apron.

“I don’t care what her reason is,” Ruby said. “I’ll just be happy to have her home.”

The girls headed back toward the diner counter, out of earshot and Gold stared down at his plate unseeingly. It appeared he would have no further information on the subject. And why would anyone offer him any? Lacey French was nothing to Mr. Gold, just a girl who used to live in town and had moved far away given half the chance.

Gold took a sip of water to wash down the bile climbing up the back of his throat. It felt as though the walls of the diner were closing in on him, a buzzing in his ears and a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. If he stood up he was afraid he might feel faint or worse, retch up his breakfast across Granny’s clean floor. His heart was beating too fast, his vision blurring as he kept his eyes riveted on his half eaten pancakes.

He took deep breaths through his nose, blowing them out through his mouth as the world settled around him, the dizzy spell passing. Then he glanced around the diner to see if anyone had noticed his discomfort. But no one paid him any mind and he pushed his plate away, dumping a few crisp bills on the table to cover his tab and scooted out of his booth.

The fresh air outside was welcome and helped to clear his mind even further. He turned toward his shop, the looming specter of the clock tower above the library casting its shadow across the street. A cursed building. A hated building.

Lacey was coming home. For how long he couldn’t be certain. Alone or with someone else, he couldn’t be certain either. She would be here Thursday and he thanked Ruby Lucas for her unintended warning. That gave him two days, two days to get as far away as possible.   
Lacey French was coming home, and Gold wasn’t going to be here when she arrived.

* * *

_Thursday Evening_

The exhaust smoke from the parked bus wafted across the street, the fumes stinging Lacey’s nose. The smell reminded her of class trips out of town back in her school days, chartering the bus for a day trip to the planetarium or the science museum. It reminded her of the day she left at eighteen before being dragged back into the town’s grasp a few short years later. It reminded her of the second time she left five years and two months ago, boarding the bus to the airport and not daring to look back. She had escaped for slightly longer this time, but Storybrooke never truly let anyone go.

She hadn’t been on many buses in the meantime. She’d been settled, stuck in one place. Now she was here, back where she’d started, and it felt as though no time had passed. Her world had changed so much in five years, but the passage of time left no mark on Storybrooke.

She twisted the ring on her left hand idly, looking down the street from the bus stop to where the fluorescent glow of Granny’s Diner beckoned. Further down and across the street was the sign for Mr. Gold’s shop, illuminated in the gathering gloom of evening just as it always had. It was funny, part of Lacey was surprised to see it still there, as though everything that had happened between them should have left some indelible mark on him. But there was nothing more unyielding or unchanging in Storybrooke than Mr. Gold and Lacey had long overestimated her value to people.

She sighed, taking hold of her wheeled suitcase and trudging down the street toward Granny’s. She’d told her father she would be arriving at 6 PM but she hadn’t really held out hope he’d meet her at the station. He was scatterbrained at the best of times and it certainly wasn’t the best of times.

She was pretty sure Storybrooke didn’t have uber and the idea of a cab service in such a small town was laughable. So walk she would, but she’d stop in and say hi to Ruby first.

Granny’s was warm and loud, the smells of sizzling burgers and fresh pumpkin pies greeting her like an old friend. The bell on the door rang out merrily as she entered, the glass door swinging closed behind her and thumping in to her large suitcase sending her stumbling forward on her heeled booties.

“Lacey!” she heard a woman squeal before being nearly knocked off her feet by a full body hug.

“Oh my God” she exclaimed, gripping tight to Ruby for balance as the other girl barreled in to her like an overgrown puppy.

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” Ruby said excitedly, pulling back to look at Lacey. “I mean you’ve talked about visiting before but you always backed out last minute.”

Lacey just shrugged.

“Life’s been crazy,” she said noncommittally. “But I put it off long enough, so here I am.”

“Here you are,” Ruby said with a nod. She looped her arm through Lacey’s dragging her further in to the diner, leaving her suitcase by the doorway. “Do you need a place to stay? It’s tourist season but I could probably scrounge you up a room.”

Tourist season. Lacey had almost forgotten about that, the early days of fall when randos would descend on their small New England town to look at leaves. It always seemed a bit mental to Lacey, coming all that way for dying foliage. And it was true she only recognized about half the people in the diner tonight, a sure sign that the B&B was filled up.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Lacey said, giving a wave to Leroy Miner at the counter. “I’m due at my dad’s. Just wanted to stop in and say hey. I know we’ve kept up on FaceTime, but it’s not really a substitute for seeing your best mate in person.”

“I know!” Ruby said, pulling Lacey into another tight hug. “I’m off tomorrow night. Want to get together for drinks?”

“Absolutely,” Lacey said with a nod. 24 hours with her dad was probably more than enough to have her craving a cocktail.

“Great!” Ruby said. “It’s a date. And you’ll get to finally meet Dorothy!”

Lacey had seen Ruby’s girlfriend on video chat, but had never met her face to face.

“Can’t wait!” Lacey said, only partly feigning enthusiasm. She was happy Ruby was happy. But being in Storybrooke had her on edge, like her past was waiting to ambush her at any turn. There were too many memories here, too many ghosts.

“Alright, I’ve got to get back to it. But I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Later,” Lacey called after Ruby’s retreating back as she scrambled over to a table of little old ladies Lacey didn’t recognize.

With nothing else to do, Lacey took hold of her suitcase and wheeled it back into the night.

The clock tower loomed just a block down from Granny’s and Lacey froze at the sight. She knew, rationally, where the clock tower stood, where it had always stood, in spite of everything. The hands on the large face were stalled, stuck at 8:15 as they had been for years now, since before she left.

Lacey shuddered, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. The fall evening suddenly felt colder, the wind a little more biting.

The library beneath the clock tower was dark. That hadn’t changed in the intervening five years either. Lacey shuffled forward, compelled, her suitcase trailing along in her wake as she approached the old building. Once she cleared the Marine Garage, the library came fully in view and Lacey realized some things did change in Storybrooke after all.

The right side of the building facing the side street had been repaired, no longer a gaping hole boarded over with plywood and covered with plastic sheeting. Now there was a solid stucco wall with a brass plaque mounted in the middle.

_In Loving Memory_

Lacey bit down on her lip as she came close enough to read the plaque, the two names listed below and a date. She blew out a breath between her lips. She wondered if there had been a ceremony, a memorial or dedication. She wondered if anyone had attended. Her father had never mentioned it, but he wouldn’t have gone. Her father rarely left the house other than to tend to his shop.

The rest of the library looked much as she’d left it, yellowing newspaper blocking out the windows, the upper floor’s windows completely boarded up. There was a spot by the front door where the newspaper had peeled away and Lacey stooped over to look through into the dark cavern. She couldn’t make out much in the shadows, but the dark shape of the circulation desk was visible, the black and white linoleum floor reflecting the little bit of light that managed to seep in from the streetlights outside. Lacey stood with a sigh. Her mother would be appalled to see her library in such a state, standing empty as it had for seven long years now.

There were tears in her eyes and she blinked them away, sucking in a ragged gasp as she turned her back on the library.

The sight that met her from across the street was no less painful, but Lacey stiffened her spine. It was probably best to get this over with.

She was halfway across the street when she realized that despite the illuminated shop sign, the lights inside were off. When she reached for the front door, it was locked, a closed sign displayed in the window.

Lacey looked down at her wristwatch. It was 6:17, not exactly prime hours for the shop but certainly early enough for Gold to still be tinkering away inside. She blew out a breath. Ruby hadn’t mentioned him much in the past five years and Lacey had never asked after him. He was occasionally mentioned in passing, background color to some story or another, but never their focus. Lacey clung to those tidbits, the picture she could create from scraps of nothing. From Ruby’s account, he’d gone on much as he always had, nothing to indicate her departure had impacted him in any way. Perhaps he closed earlier these days. It was hardly an indication of anything else.

That reunion would have to wait for another day and Lacey felt an uncomfortable prickle up her spine at the thought. She wanted to be in control, to approach him and take him off guard. The thought of running in to him when she wasn’t prepared was enough to make her want to cloister herself in her childhood bedroom until she could be safely gone again.

With that in mind, she turned and headed down the side street beside the library toward Maple. It was getting late, and her father would be glad to see her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Friday Evening_

There was rarely an emergency Dove couldn’t handle.

It was the main reason Gold kept him in his employ, after all. The man was preternaturally capable, as dependable as his sturdy frame would suggest. It was a hallmark of Gold’s rotten luck that Dove would fail him now.

He’d only wanted to get out of town for a few days, to miss the bulk of Lacey’s visit. No one had ever accused Gold of being a brave man and he couldn’t face her, not now and not ever. If he knew Lacey, and despite everything that had transpired, he believed he did, she wouldn’t linger in Storybrooke. She would do what she came to do and leave as quickly as possible. He’d give her a long weekend before her bags were packed and she was off to the other side of the country, back to her life and back to _him_. It was quite possible he could hide up in his cabin for the duration of her stay and never have to breathe the same air as Lacey French.

But Dove had ruined his plans and now he was back, dealing with the insurance company after a small kitchen fire at Astrid Starr’s apartment. What the hell was he paying the man for?

The insurance company insisted on dealing with Gold himself and not his proxy, all because of a little arson charge years ago. He’d reminded them that the charge had been dropped, but increased investigation was insisted upon.

By the time the matter had been sorted, the carpenter called, and estimates for the damages collected, the afternoon had burned away and the sky was a deep, inky black as Gold escaped the cramped little apartment. There was a smattering of stars up above, the autumn air turning frigid. Gold checked his pocket watch to find it was a quarter to ten in the evening before snapping it shut with a grimace. It was too late to head back up to his cabin. The forest roads were treacherous enough during daytime. At night it would be pitch black and he’d probably wind up in a ditch.

So he was stuck in Storybrooke for the night. That was fine. He had little chance of seeing Lacey and he could be out first thing in the morning, back up in the wilds until the town was safe once more.

He set out at a clip down Elm Street back toward Main and his Cadillac that was parked outside his shop. His cane clacked along the pavement, the street otherwise silent despite it being a Friday evening. Then he heard it, the thumping of a baseline from somewhere up ahead. It was certainly emanating from the Rabbit Hole, one of the only nightspots in town and Gold gritted his teeth at the reminder of its existence. The closer he got to Main Street, the louder the music grew and Gold rolled his eyes, wishing he was back at his cabin with nothing for company but a bottle of scotch, a good book and his own thoughts.

He averted his eyes as he reached Main Street, keeping his gaze firmly on the ground as if the very sight of the bar could wound him. That was the only explanation for what happened next.

He turned the corner and ran smack into someone, their small frame bouncing off his chest.

“Watch it!” she exclaimed, stumbling back as Gold instinctively reached for her arm to steady her. And suddenly he was staring down into the eyes of Lacey French.

“Oh bloody hell,” his words slipped out unbidden and Gold clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything more. Rotten luck indeed.

Lacey’s breath hitched at the sight of him, a subtle thing that he could feel more than see. Her hair was shorter, curling just below her shoulders. The last time he’d seen her it had been nearly to her waist, threaded through his fingers as he moved above her, her head thrown back as he kissed up the length of her pale throat.

“Lacey,” he said, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy. He swallowed convulsively, letting his hand drop from her arm as if burned.

“Mr. Gold,” she said coolly, blinking up at him with her wide blue eyes. She shook her head a bit, those lovely tousled curls bouncing with the motion. “Hi.”

She was still so lovely, pink cheeked and red lipped. Her blue sequined mini dress left little to the imagination, her diminutive frame given a few extra inches by her black stilettos.

He could smell the alcohol on her breath. It brought to mind memories of another life, of a time long ago. Her blue eyes were clear though, staring up at him shrewdly.

It was as though something had climbed up his throat and settled in his mouth, weighing down his tongue and stealing his speech. He’d thought of this moment, over the years, what he would say to her if ever their paths should cross. He’d been callous and cruel by turns, other times understanding, still others filled with righteous anger. All of those carefully constructed sentences fled his mind when faced with Lacey in the flesh.

“Um,” she said artfully.

“I…” he began dumbly.

“You go first,” Lacey said in a rushed breath.

“I’m surprised to see you,” he lied.

“Oh, yeah, well I’m just here for a few days,” she said with a nod.

“How is San Diego?” he asked.

“San Francisco,” she corrected. She needn’t have. He was well aware of where she’d moved. “Um, it’s foggy. But nice. How is…” she motioned around at the street. “Everything?”

“Wonderful,” he deadpanned.

Lacey nodded again, her eyes casting around as if trying to find something to comment on, something to fill the awful silence that was threatening to engulf them.

“Well I was just at the Rabbit Hole with Ruby,” she said, motioning down the street to where the thumping music was emanating. “I met her new girlfriend, Dorothy. She seems nice. It’s nice to see Ruby so happy for once.”

“Nice,” he repeated. He hadn’t the slightest clue who Ruby Lucas was dating these days and he didn’t much care.

What are you up to tonight?” she asked, rubbing her palms against her bare thighs nervously.

“Working,” he said succinctly. “Tenant issue.”

“Of course,” Lacey said with yet another infernal nod. This wasn’t the Lacey he remembered, so timid and wrong footed. It gave him a thrill, a sense of power, that he had her stumbling over her words. That perhaps she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she’d once claimed to be.

They stood there for another tense moment. Lacey opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something but then closed it again quickly.

“I saw the library was fixed up,” she said eventually. “Did you do that?”

“The mayor,” he said, looking blindly behind Lacey, anywhere but those bright blue eyes. “I suppose it was a blight on her otherwise pristine street.”

“Oh,” she said. “That makes sense.”

Silence overtook them again and Gold stood as still as possible, his hand resting on the head of his cane. No need to betray how unsettled he was by the sight of Lacey in front of him. The petite little hurricane who had brought him back from the brink and then escorted him there once more.

“This is awkward,” she said finally, wincing at her own words. “I mean not…it’s awkward, right?”

“Why should it be?” he returned, keeping his face impassive. “Five years is a long time, Lacey. We’ve all gotten on just fine without you.”

Lacey blinked, her jaw tightening.

“Charming as ever,” she mumbled.

“What do you want from me, Lacey?” he asked, looking down at her, meeting her devastating eyes for once.

She stepped back, looking affronted as if she had any right.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “I never wanted anything from you.”

“Now that’s just not true, is it?” he said through barred teeth, his patience for this conversation running thin. “There was a time when you wanted everything I could give you. Every last inch.”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“Oh,” Gold scoffed. “That’s what you did best.”

She was glaring daggers at him, so much anger and fire contained in such a small person. He liked her better this way, angry and spitting mad. It was better than the sadness, better than the silence.

“I didn’t come here to dredge up all my past mistakes,” Lacey hissed out. And didn’t that still hurt in a place just beneath his ribs? A mistake, that’s all he would ever be to her, to anyone.

“Then why did you come here?”

Lacey coughed out something that almost sounded like a laugh.

“I don’t have a fucking clue,” she said, suddenly weary. “But it certainly wasn’t to see you.”

“Then why should we prolong this awkward moment any longer than necessary?” he asked stiffly.

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed. “You’re right, as always. Goodbye, Gold.”

With that she breezed past him off down the street in the direction of her father’s house.

“Do give my best to your husband,” he called over his shoulder, enjoying the way her shoulders tensed at the barb as she disappeared into the night, her heels clicking against the pavement ringing in his ears long after she was out of view.

Gold sighed once she was gone, leaning heavily against his cane.

A mistake, it was all he’d ever been to anyone. Why should Lacey have been any different? For a moment she’d made him forget a very important lesson, that the only person you could ever trust was yourself and anything good in life would be snatched away the moment you grew complacent. He wouldn’t forget again.

He made his way the few steps to his Cadillac, sinking in to the driver’s seat. The library loomed in his peripheral vision and he turned his head to block out the view.

* * *

_7 years ago_

It was pouring down rain, the first chill day in September, autumn arriving after the desolation of summer and washing away the heat and the memories.

Of course it would be raining. One month to the day since the accident. It had been raining then too, not that the weather was any excuse for what had happened. Gold hadn’t opened the shop in that month. He’d been too broken to do much but shuffle from his bed to the bathroom and back again. There was no one checking in on him, no one worried about his lack of activity. Why would they?

But he'd felt compelled to leave the house today, the rain be damned. He'd gotten dressed, pulling on a suit and tie without the usual care. He hadn't even bothered with a pocket square. He'd pulled his overcoat on overtop and set out into a drizzle that had turned torrential on his walk in to town. Gold didn't care, not about his clothes being ruined by rainwater or the very real possibility that he would slip and fall, his cane skittering out from under him and leaving him broken in the gutter. 

It was evening, just after twilight, and the streets were empty due to the weather. Gold could see the light shining from Granny's as he made his way to Main Street, warmth and food and happiness encased in the bubble of the diner. It was strange to think that life could go on, that people could just be going to a diner for a meal, when his world had completely ended. How could anyone worry about their dinner at a time like this? 

He turned away from the cheeriness of the diner and made his way instead to the dark, hulking shape of the ruined library. In the past month they'd hung some tarps over the gaping hole. Police tape held up by orange traffic cones still surrounded the place, blocking off the sidewalk outside. The police tape looked sad and tired in the rain, sagging beneath the weight of the water, almost touching the ground in places. With a groan, Gold ducked under the tape, coming to stand beneath the awning that surrounded the library on all sides but for the bit of it that had fallen on to the sidewalk. It offered little protection from the rain, what with the wind blowing it in gusts. He was soaked through, but he was too numb to feel the cold, too tired to care. 

Gold heard a sniffle from somewhere nearby and he spun, almost slipping on the wet sidewalk. In the gloom of rainy evening, he could make out a small, pale shape huddled in the doorway of the library. Slender arms wrapped around a pair of knees. A reddish brown head buried in the knees. 

"Excuse me," he said, his voice rough with disuse. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to anyone. Perhaps it had been the police, or the Mayor when she'd come by with condolences. No, it had been the doctor, a trauma surgeon in the ER who'd delivered the news. He hadn't spoken to anyone since then. He'd slammed the door in the Mayor's face without a word. 

The head jerked up, wide blue eyes in a tear stained face staring up at him. Lacey French, of course. A girl he knew by sight but had never spoken to. Of course she would be here. 

"Mr. Gold," she said, her voice just as scratchy as his own. 

She was shaking, he could see, shivering in the cold, wet evening. And no wonder as she had no coat, no rain jacket, not even long sleeves to protect her from the elements. Without a thought, he shrugged off his sodden coat, stripping his still mostly dry suit jacket from beneath and draping it around Lacey's shoulders. Her lips parted, her expression wary, but then she tugged the jacket more firmly around her. 

"Thank you," she said with a nod. 

With some effort, Gold slid down on to the door step beside her, looking out at the rain the continued to pound down around them. 

"I'm sorry," Lacey said after a moment, "about your son." 

He just nodded, letting the words soak in and hurt him, the pain sharp enough to dispel the numbness somewhat. 

"Is your mother..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

"No change," Lacey said, saving him the trouble of finishing his sentence. 

They lapsed in to silence, no sound but the rain drumming against the roof of the overhang. 

"It's her favorite place," Lacey said finally. "I feel her more here than..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "More than with her, you know?" 

He didn't know. Neal had been killed almost instantly. He couldn't decide if it would be worse if he and Lacey's positions had been reversed, if he was waiting by the bedside of someone who would probably never wake up. If the hope he would be clinging to, even knowing it was futile, would hurt him more in the end. 

He had no more hope. It was probably easier that way. 

"She'll be alright," he said. It was the first lie he would ever tell Lacey. It wouldn't be the last. 

Lacey leaned her head against his shoulder. 

"No she won't," she murmured. "But thank you for saying so." 

* * *

_Friday Night_

Lacey’s teeth were chattering by the time she made it to her father’s apartment above his flower shop. She was cold, underdressed for the New England weather, but it was the adrenaline coursing through her that had her shaking. She felt faint, the blood pumping through her body too quickly and leaving her light headed.

She hadn’t been prepared to see him, not like this. Not wearing this stupid dress and looking like she was still trying to be that stupid girl from years back. For Christ's sake, she was twenty-seven years old, not a child. But going to the Rabbit Hole had her combing through the clothes in her closet, picking out one of her old dresses and feeling like a girl she hadn’t been in such a long time.

She got the door to the apartment open, sagging against the door once it was closed at her back. Her feet ached from the walk and her heart was still beating far too quickly.

“Who is that? Colette, is that you?” Lacey heard her father call from the living room. She sighed, kicking off her heels and dropping her purse by the front door.

“Just me, Dad,” she said as she entered the living room.

“Oh, Petal!” he said, his face lighting up at the sight of her.

Maurice French, Moe to his friends and clients, was a Storybrooke institution. He’d owned the flower shop on Maple for as long as anyone could remember, churning out the most beautiful blooms in New England as if by magic. In the shop’s heyday he’d had clients all across the tri-state area, his green thumb bringing recognition to Storybrooke from far and wide. That had all started to wane seven years ago and now the shop had lost what little magic it had managed to maintain, its doors staying shuttered several days a week and the greenhouse out back overgrown and untended.

Lacey thought that was the saddest thing she’d come home to, more so than the library or Mr. Gold. Her father wasn’t himself, and she hadn’t realized how bad off he was until she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“Did you have a nice night with your friends?” Moe asked, looking up at her from his armchair in front of the television. She’d done her best to clean up the day before, but the apartment was showing significant wear, the wallpaper her mother had hung in the living room so many years before beginning to peel away in places and the furniture sagging from age and constant use.

“Yeah,” Lacey lied, forcing a smile.

“I like that Will,” her father said, turning back to stare at the TV where an infomercial was playing. “He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah,” Lacey agreed. “He is.”

“I know your mother thinks he’s not much, but there’s potential there, I say.”

“Dad,” Lacey said, calling his attention back to her. “I married Will, remember?”

She held up her left hand where the simple silver band glinted in the light from the TV.

“Oh,” he said, looking confused for a moment. “Of course you did. I gave you away.”

Lacey nodded.

“Your mother wasn’t there,” he continued with a frown.

“No, she wasn’t,” Lacey agreed. “Mum’s been gone a while now.”

Her father went silent, staring down at his hands. It seemed to be worse at night, his forgetfulness. It was how Lacey had gone so long without realizing how bad off he was. When she’d call him in the mornings, lunchtime his time, he seemed lucid and normal, if a little sad. But these past two nights had shown just how far things had progressed. How could she leave him like this? Who would take care of him? What if he wandered away from the apartment in search of her mother?

“Why don’t you go to bed, Dad,” she said. “It’s late.”

Moe looked up at her again, slapping his hands together.

“Right you are, Petal,” he said. “I’ve got to prune the roses tomorrow. Winter will be here before we know it.”

Lacey only had to remind her father to brush his teeth once which she considered a success and in a matter of minutes he was tucked up in bed. She made her way to her childhood bedroom across the hall, kicking the door shut and falling face first across the creaky old mattress. It took all her strength to force herself up and to the bathroom to prepare for bed. She wasn’t nineteen anymore and she’d regret sleeping in her makeup and not moisturizing properly. She lost herself in the mindless routine of her nightly ablutions and it wasn’t until she was tucked up in bed, the room still and dark around her, that she had a moment to dwell on her conversation with Gold.

He was angry with her.

She didn’t blame him. She deserved his anger, his hatred. But she’d never been on the receiving end of it before. It made everything off balance, the world slipping off its axis and leaving her in free fall. From the moment they’d first spoken, outside the library all those years ago, he’d been kind to her. Lacey knew the stories about Gold, she knew his reputation. She’d grown up in Storybrooke after all and the specter of Mr. Gold was cast over everything. But her parents had never owed him a cent and so they’d managed to completely avoid him but for the occasional bouquet of flowers ordered for his home. Her mother was the head librarian at the Storybrooke Free Public Library, a position paid for by the city. Her father owned his shop and their small apartment outright so no rent was due. Because they were not indebted to Mr. Gold, they had never felt the brunt of his ire and Lacey had no first hand experience with the fearsome beast everyone claimed him to be.

And then, one rainy night at the age of twenty, she’d finally met him. He’d given her his coat and a shoulder to cry on and he’d been a friend, and much more, until the day she left town two years later.

But tonight she’d seen the beast, the man everyone claimed him to be. Cold and cruel, and nothing more than what she deserved.

Lacey dragged a hand across her face, hearing his words reverberate in her head. This wasn’t how she wanted things to go. She wanted to apologize, to tell him she was sorry for what she’d done, the pain she’d caused. But seeing him again after all this time had unnerved her, left her stumbling and foolish.

She rolled on to her side, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she just saw his face. The hope, the love, the warmth shining from his eyes. She saw him lying in his bed, his hair mussed and face relaxed in sleep, a small smile on his lips as she kissed him goodbye and stole away before he could wake.

Lacey tossed off the covers, sitting up on her bed. The alarm clock on the bedside table said it was nearly midnight, much too late for anything but the worst decisions. But Storybrooke was the home of her bad choices, the place where she’d made the worst choice of all. With that in mind, she got up, searching around in the darkness for her boots and stuffing her feet into them. There was no time to get dressed. If she stopped to think, she would change her mind. She wasn’t sure how long she would be in Storybrooke, but if she was going to coexist with Mr. Gold, she needed to apologize and there was no time like the present.

She grabbed her coat from where it hung on the back of the door, pulling it on over her camisole and pajama pants, and set off, making sure to lock the door behind her.

Gold was going to hear her apology whether he wanted it or not.


	3. Chapter 3

_Friday, Midnight_

As a rule, no one rang Mr. Gold’s doorbell. If he was needed, he could be approached in his shop during business hours. The denizens of Storybrooke knew better than to disturb him at home, as if any would have the nerve in the first place, so it was an unexpected annoyance when his doorbell rang out on Friday night.

It was midnight, the large grandfather clock in the hallway chiming out the hour and Gold stood from his chair, looking out toward the foyer and wondering if he’d suffered an auditory hallucination. All was quiet for a moment before the knocking started, the stained glass panes of his front door rattling at the force.

Curiosity got the better of Gold, wondering who could be brash enough to intrude on his solitude in the middle of the night and he stormed out into the hall, glaring at the shadow on his front porch. His night had been far from usual, his whole week turned upside down since he’d overheard the wait staff at Granny’s discussing Lacey’s impending arrival.

Gold had never been a good sleeper, and his insomnia was even worse knowing Lacey was somewhere in town, lurking and waiting to destroy him further if he gave her half a chance. He was only glad he hadn’t done something truly stupid like change into his pajamas. He was still in his shirt and tie, though he’d left his suit jacket in his study. He’d never answer the door if he wasn’t dressed.

He threw the door open, preparing his best scowl, but it slipped from his face at the sight that met him on his front porch.

Lacey was standing there, her hair pulled up in a knot atop her head, a pair of pink striped pajamas protruding from beneath her blue coat.

“Don’t slam the door on me!” she exclaimed, holding up her hands as if to stop him from doing just that. In truth he was too stunned to slam the door in her face, much as the thought appealed to him.

“Wh…what are you doing here?” he managed.

Lacey dropped her hands, looking unsure of herself.

“Can I come in?”

 _No_ , he wanted to say.

“Yes,” he said instead, stepping back and letting her into the entryway. It seemed he was incapable of refusing her anything, even now.

She stood there for a moment, arms hugging around herself, feet shuffling against the hall rug. He watched her silently, wondering if she would say anything more.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “That’s why I’m here. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“What on earth for?” he asked, his voice impressively calm.

Lacey shot him a look.

“You know what for,” she said.

“Enlighten me.” He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. Lacey had much to answer for and he found himself wanting her explanation. He needed to hear her say the words, to tell him the truth for once in her life.

That he wasn’t enough.

“For…for leading you on,” she said lamely.

“Oh is that what you did?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lacey ground her teeth together, her arms falling to her sides. She looked equal parts exasperated and chagrined.

“I’m sorry,” she tried again, “For making you think I was going to do one thing and then doing another.”

“For lying,” he supplied. “Let’s not sugarcoat it.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, no longer staring at the wall behind him.

“I didn’t lie,” she said with a little shake of her head. “I meant everything I said that night.”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” he said.

He turned stalking down the hall toward the living room. He didn’t look to see if Lacey was following him. He didn’t much care. He just couldn’t look her in the eye while she told him she’d meant any of the things she’d said, not after what she’d done.

“Daniel, wait,” she called, and he stiffened, stopping with his hand clenching his cane so hard he was sure it would seize up in that position. No one had used his given name in five years.

He turned slowly, fixing her with his stoniest gaze.

“What?” he deadpanned. “What else could you possibly have to say to me?”

“Do…” she took a deep breath. “Do you accept my apology?”

He arched a brow.

“You really want to push this?”

“I want to know we’re okay,” she said with a timid little bob of her shoulders. And who was this woman? Who was this scared creature, so unsure of herself? This wasn’t his Lacey, his spitfire, the spark that had brought him back to life.

“After five years of silence?” he asked. “Now you want closure? Why?”

Lacey sighed. “If we’re going to coexist in the same town for any length of time, we need to talk things out.”

“Forgive me if I’m all talked out when it comes to you, Lacey,” he said. “I know better than to believe what you say.”

“That’s not fair,” she said, without any real conviction. It was entirely fair and she knew it as well as he.

“Fair?” he said, stepping toward her. She took a half step back at the look on his face. “Fine, let’s discuss what exactly you want forgiveness for. You showed up here, at this very house, on the eve of your wedding. You showed up here and promised me you’d call the whole thing off. You told me you loved me, that you only wanted me, you _fucked_ me, and then less than 12 hours later you married another man. Is my memory remiss or is that what you’re apologizing for?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice small.

“It’s fine,” he lied. It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. His life had been shit for seven long years and Lacey had just twisted the knife. “I got one last fuck, I guess I should be grateful you gave me that much.”

“Please,” she said with a shake of her head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Act like it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“How should I act, Lacey?” he demanded. “I’m not much for the whole unrequited thing. You made your choice. If you regret it, that’s on you.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I don’t regret it. I just regret hurting you. I never should have come here that night.”

“It was a mistake,” he said with a grimace. “Almost two years worth of mistakes. Funny you didn’t figure it out the first time.”

“That two years wasn’t a mistake,” she said with a shake of her head. “We needed each other and I don’t regret it. But the last night was. I knew what I was going to do from the moment I came here. Nothing you said that night would have changed my mind. I shouldn’t have made you try.”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on whether from this conversation or the whisky he’d imbibed earlier that evening, he couldn’t be certain.

“Why did you come here then?” he asked with a sigh. “If your mind was made up, if it all meant nothing, why come at all?”

She shrugged, a sad little smile crossing her face

“Because I loved you,” she said simply. “Doesn’t mean we were right for each other or that that love was built on anything remotely healthy, but the heart wants what it wants and mine wanted you.”

Loved. Wanted. Gold couldn’t help but notice the past tense. She had loved him. He had believed her. And for what? He’d still woken up alone, broken, the fragile and brittle pieces of his soul that he had stitched back together after losing Neal forever destroyed beyond repair.

His eyes slipped closed for a moment, blocking Lacey out as he took a deep, steadying breath. When he opened his eyes, she was still there, still looking small and vulnerable and beautiful. He still wanted her, even after everything she had done.

“And why are you here now?” he asked, his breath shallow. Lacey was close, too close. He could smell her hair and feel her heat and in spite of everything all he wanted was to take her in his arms, to kiss her and lose himself for just a moment. That’s why their affair had started after all, to block out the world around them, the pain of their everyday lives, and just feel something good.

“Why are you here, Lacey?” he repeated.

She looked up at him, her eyes so large in her beautiful face, the face of an angel though he knew better now.

“I…I…” she stuttered out. “I told you, I didn’t like how we left things. I wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t mean at my house,” he said, stepping closer. Lacey French was the only person against whom he could use height as an advantage and he loomed over her now. “I mean in Storybrooke.”

“Oh,” she said, folding her arms against her chest, closing herself off from him. “My dad. He’s not well.”

Gold had little enough reason to interact with the town florist, a fact he was grateful for. But he had noticed the flower shop was closed more often than not these days.

“Oh,” he said with a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“He…” Lacey trailed off, biting her lip. “I’m just all he has, you know? I don’t know…I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Your husband hasn’t been a help?”

Lacey’s eyes shot up to meet his, looking at him warily.

“He’s good to me, Will,” she said, a non answer. “He always has been.”

“And yet here you are on my doorstep without him. Again.”

Lacey stepped back, looking down.

“He deserves better,” she said morosely, apparently lacking the energy to fight back.

“On that at least we can agree,” Gold said through clenched teeth.

Lacey ran a hand over her face, turning away with her other hand braced on her hip.

“We’re taking some time apart,” she admitted.

Gold hated the little flutter of something in his stomach at her words, something that felt way too much like hope. He squashed it down.

“Trouble in _paradise_ ,” he said unkindly.

Lacey turned, fixing him with a look.

“I needed to get away from him. He…he keeps talking about starting a family, trying for a baby. It’s like he doesn’t even know me and that’s no one’s fault but my own. I’ve pretended for so long to be someone I’m not. And I guess it feels like maybe you’re the only person on the planet who knows the real me.”

“The darkness behind the pretty face,” he growled out.

“The fuck up,” she supplied.

Gold nodded, letting out a huff.

“So that’s why you’re really here,” he said, tucking his finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You might pretend it’s for an apology but you could apologize tomorrow. Why show up in the middle of the night in your pajamas?”

There was a change in Lacey’s eyes, the uncertainty falling away. She held herself straighter, her shoulders back as she raised her chin.

Her eyes mapped his face for a moment, taking in every wrinkle, every flaw. He couldn’t hide himself from Lacey, she knew him too well. For once, he didn’t want to try.

Her eyes settled on his lips before flicking up to his eyes.

“Because I want you,” she said matter of factly. 

Gold swallowed, a little bob of his Adam’s apple as he looked down at Lacey. He could reject her, right now. He could send her home to her senile father and never see her again. It would be what she deserved.

Or he could have her again, hold her, bury himself in her until he forgot his own bloody name.

She would leave again, of course she would. He might not even survive another blow like that.

But Gold had a self destructive streak that reared its head at the most inopportune of times. He would take everything Lacey offered, and he would worry about the fallout later.

His hand was still on her chin and he moved it down, covering her pale throat with his calloused hand. He could feel her pulse fluttering beneath is fingers, feel her quick, unsteady breaths.

They were destined for hell, the two of them. What was one more sin?

His hand moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her to him as his mouth crashed against hers.

* * *

_7 Years Ago_

It had become a sort of tradition, after that first meeting at the library, to find each other on Friday evenings.

It had been three months since the accident, two months since she’d first sat with Mr. Gold, united in their grief. In those two months she’d found a friend and it seemed natural to see him sitting on the step outside the library the following Friday and the one after that. They’d since moved on from the library. Once they’d met at the Rabbit Hole and had a drink, but that had drawn more attention than either of them were prepared for. So now they met here, in the meadow at the edge of the forest that surrounded the town. It wouldn’t last, of course. It was November and the air was getting more frigid by the week. Mr. Gold had brought a blanket and Lacey was wrapped up in it as they sat on the hood of his Cadillac, staring up at the stars in the cloudless autumn sky.

She hadn’t told anyone about her new friendship. Not Ruby, not her father. Her father was gone more often than not these days, where she couldn’t be certain, but he’d come home stinking of gin and fall asleep on the couch. They barely spoke and it seemed as each day passed with her mother’s condition unchanged, the more her father slipped away.

In the past three months, Lacey had lost both her parents, no matter that their bodies were still here.

She shivered in the chill evening and Gold passed her his lit cigarette. She took a puff, sucking the smoke into her lungs and exhaling it mixed with cold.

“Tomorrow is my 21st birthday,” she said. Neither of them had spoken in some time, the quiet between them a relief. No one asked how they were doing, how they were "holding up", when they were together. They could be silent in their sadness, something no one else seemed to want to give them.

“Happy Birthday,” Gold said, taking the cigarette back from her. “Any big plans?”

Lacey shook her head, licking her lips.

“Mum always said we’d go to Vegas for it,” she said. “I suppose that’s off the table.”

Gold took a drag of his cigarette, hollowing his cheeks and sucking down the smoke. Lacey watched him, intrigued by his face. He was handsome, she thought, for an older man. There was something striking about his face, so angular, the light catching on his sharp cheekbones. She glanced away before she could focus too long on it.

“I suppose so,” he said by way of answer.

“Will said he’d take me out for a drink,” she continued, rubbing her hands along the tartan blanket covering her lap.

“Who’s Will?” he asked and it struck Lacey how little they knew about each other really, despite spending so much time together. They sat, they commiserated, they were silent together.

“He’s my…” she began, “ _was_ my boyfriend. Back in high school. We’ve been spending some time together since I quit college.”

“Quit?” he prompted.

Lacey took the cigarette, taking one last drag before stubbing it out on the front fender of the car and flicking it away.

“Not much use going back now, is there?” she asked. “I missed a semester and I can’t leave with Mum like this.”

Gold just nodded.

“How is she?”

“The same,” Lacey said. “Dad won’t make a decision on what to do and…I’d say he’s holding out hope for a miracle but I don’t think he is. He’s just incapable of dealing with it. He’d rather check out and ignore it.”

Gold leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the constellations overhead.

“Checking out can be an attractive option,” he said. “If one has nothing left to live for.”

“Apparently I’m not enough,” she said, hating how surly her voice sounded. She hadn’t come to terms with her mother’s condition. She probably never would. But she knew what her father refused to acknowledge. Colette French was gone, no matter that her body lay in a hospital bed three miles away. She was gone just as if she’d been killed immediately by the drunk who plowed into the side of the library and no amount of wishful thinking would make her wake up. Lacey longed for a parent, one who would make the tough decisions. One who would tell her what to do. Her dad had never been much help in that department. Colette had been the one to push her, to direct her, to make plans and hold her feet to the fire. Without that, she was adrift.

“So you’re seeing this Will again, are you?” Gold asked, changing the conversation smoothly.

Lacey scrunched up her nose.

“I guess so,” she said. “I mean there’s nothing wrong with him.”

Gold huffed out a laugh. “A glowing recommendation.”

Lacey rolled her eyes.

“My mother never liked him,” she said before cocking her head to the side. “Actually, I don’t think that’s true. I think she liked him just fine. She just didn’t like him _for me_.”

“Why?” Gold asked, watching her face carefully.

Lacey shrugged. “I don’t think she would have liked anyone in this town. She wanted more for me, didn’t want me getting stuck here like her.”

“Did your mother feel trapped?”

Lacey shrugged again. “She never said as much. But it was always there, beneath the surface. She’d planned for more, but she loved my dad so she stayed. I think she was worried if I fell in love I’d stay here too. What a shit twist of fate it turned out to be. I’m stuck here for her.”

“Do you love him?” Gold asked, clearing his throat that suddenly felt far too dry. “This Will, I mean.”

Lacey blinked as though no one had ever asked her point blank before.

“He’s good to me.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Gold said.

Lacey huffed out a breath. “I know.”

There was silence for a moment as she looked up at the stars. Then she turned back to him.

“I don’t think I know what love is,” she said. “Romantic love anyway. I wouldn’t know if I was in it or not.”

Gold smiled, just a quirk of his lips. She felt young and stupid all of a sudden. How could she be twenty-one years old and still so naïve?

“How do you know?” she continued. Gold had been married before, he’d been in love.

Gold just snorted.

“You’ve asked one question I can’t answer. I’ve no idea. But I suppose if you’re truly in love, you’d know it.”

“So you’ve never been in love either?” she pressed on. “What about Neal’s mum?”

Gold licked his lips, pushing up into a sitting position again and staring down at his hands clasped together on his lap. It suddenly struck Lacey just how intimate a question it was, how invasive.

“I’m sorry…” she began. “I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” Gold said with a shake of his head. “It’s fine. Milah was…a tempest. She was thrilling and exhausting and, in the end, destructive. I was awed by her, but no. I don’t think I ever loved her. And I think she knew that.”

Lacey bit her lip, looking off into the thicket of trees beyond the meadow.

“I don’t love Will,” she said, knowing the words to be true. “But maybe I could? It’s the kind of thing that takes work, right?”

Gold gave her a sad half smile, his right dimple showing.

“Most things worth having do.”

* * *

_Saturday, well past midnight_

She could feel the heat of him, smell the familiar scent of him. He was so close and she wanted him, wanted him to kiss her and push her down and fuck her on his foyer rug. She wanted to feel something, anything, more than the shallow numbness of the past five years.

She would feel the pain too, the aching loss she carried around in her chest, always reflected back in his eyes. The very pain that had bound them together and torn them apart. The good came with the bad, but she’d take it just to feel anything. Five years ago she’d decided to shut out her feelings and to let them in now would probably drown her. She was ready for the deluge.

“Because I want you,” she said. 

His hand slid around her neck, cupping the back of her head, his breath cool against her lips. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, something hot and heavy settling between her thighs, an ache she hadn’t felt in so long and she was desperate for relief. Anticipation hung in the air for a beat before he pulled her against him, kissing her hard.

A groan was ripped from his throat at the first taste of her, her tongue sliding against his. She’d missed this, the feel of him pressed against her, the heat of his body beneath her fingers.

She hadn’t lied when she told him she loved him that night five years ago. She loved him then and she loved him still, the only man she’d ever loved.

Lacey’s fingers gripped at his shirt, twisting the silky fabric. She heard the clatter of his cane on the ground before his hands found their way to her waist, roaming over her body until they could push her coat from her shoulders. She stepped back, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thump. It was chilly in his house. She hadn’t stopped to put on a bra before leaving and she could feel her nipples tightening beneath her camisole. His eyes raked over her, dark and dangerous and she shivered, nothing to do with the temperature.

His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as his eyes traced over her form.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his hands following his eyes and tracing over her sides, settling on the strip of skin exposed above her low slung pajama pants, tickling light touches.

Lacey nodded, too overcome to speak.

Gold nodded back, and then his lips were on hers again.

Lacey pulled his shirt from his pants, slipping her hands beneath to feel the warmth of his skin. She pulled him toward her with her hands on his lower back, kissing him harder. He spun her around, shoving her against the wall of his foyer as his lips moved to her cheek, down her neck, sucking her skin and probably leaving his mark for all the town to see. She sighed at the feel of his lips on her skin, how right this felt, even after all this time.

One of his hands dipped beneath the elastic waistband of her cotton pajama pants, stroking her through the fabric of her panties. She gasped as he nudged her panties out of the way, stroking through wet flesh. He moaned against her neck, the sensation sending vibrations through her as he stroked her, slipping over her clit and plunging two fingers inside her.

“Fuck!” she gasped, her knees beginning to shake with the effort of standing up. She dug her nails into the skin of his lower back, pressing him to her.

She was hot everywhere, shaking and keening, her breasts pushed up against his hard chest. She was going to come, right here in his hallway with his fingers inside her, and she didn’t want that at all. She wanted him to lose control with her.

She grabbed at his belt, getting it unbuckled and his pants open before plunging her hand down the front of his pants, pumping her hand on the hard length of his cock.

“God, Lacey,” he groaned, his mouth finding hers for a sloppy kiss as they both worked each other to their peak.

Lacey lifted her leg up around his hip, giving him better access and he slipped another finger inside her. She let out a keen, wishing he would just fuck her already. She must have said it aloud because a moment later he’d pulled his fingers from her with an obscene squelching sound. Lacey pushed her pajama pants and panties down around her ankles, stepping out of them and kicking them across the foyer. She was left in nothing but her camisole and Gold’s eyes dropped to take the sight of her in.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growled out.

Lacey didn’t waste any time, shoving his pants and boxers out of the way and leaning back against the wall as he lined them up. He pulled her leg back up around his waist, pressing his forehead against hers as he slowly, deliberately filled her up.

Lacey cried out at the feel of him stretching her, filling her, like no time had passed since the last time they’d done this, upstairs in his bedroom the night before her wedding when she’d let him believe they had a future. He’d loved her then and now he hated her, but at least he could still make her see stars.

God she’d missed him.

She clenched her muscles around him and Gold gasped, picking up his pace as she twined her fingers in his long hair, scraping her nails against his scalp. He slammed into her again and again, harder and fiercer, so much pleasure that it was almost painful. Her breath came out in little cries she could no longer control as he pressed his mouth up against her ear.

“Does he fuck you like this?” he growled, his voice almost feral.

“No,” she whimpered, not needing to ask whom he was referring to.

“Can he make you come like I do?”

“No!” she cried out again. “Never.”

Gold braced his right hand against the wall, next to her face and she could smell the scent of her own pleasure on his fingers. She was overcome by the wrongness of it all. She was a bad person, and Gold was a bad man. They deserved each other.

She wasn’t going to last much longer, could feel her orgasm building until it would spill over, her vision going white with pleasure.

His other hand left her leg, coming up to knead her breast and pinch her nipple through the thin silk of her camisole. It was all too much and she came with a shout, her head slamming back against the wall.

Gold’s thrusts grew more erratic and he followed her with a loud groan, pulsing inside her, filling her with a rush of warmth.

Lacey’s teeth were chattering from the sensations. It had been so long since she’d been fucked like that and she couldn’t stop herself from shaking as he slumped against her, his breathing labored.

Gold pressed a kiss to the side of her face as he pulled out of her and she felt bereft without him, wanting to grab on to him and hold him close. Instead she let him step back, bracing himself against the wall as he got his pants back up and his cane back underneath him.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked without looking at her.

“Sure,” she said as she found her underwear and pants, slipping them back on and then following him to the living room. She wondered what they were supposed to talk about now, if he’d ask her to stay the night, if he’d ask her to leave.

He strode over to the sideboard behind the sofa, getting out two bar glasses and filling them with a splash of whisky.

When he turned back to her, he looked more relaxed than he had all evening, his brow smooth and a peaceful look in his dark eyes. She had done that, had taken the pain from him if only for a moment. That was the aphrodisiac that had kept her coming back time and time again, that she could make him happy or as close to it as he could possibly be.

“To old times, hmm?” he asked, handing her one of the glasses. Lacey took it, holding it up to clink against his, a sad little toast to their shared experience.

Lacey took a sip of the drink, enjoying the burn of the whisky down her parched throat. She should probably go, head home and wash the smell of sweat and sex off herself. She should come up with a plan for what she was going to do in this godforsaken town. Checking in on her dad had been more an excuse to avoid her husband for a few weeks than anything else, but now her concern for him was real. She’d certainly not made future run-ins with Gold any less complicated.

She glanced up at him over the rim of her glass and realized he hadn’t taken a sip of his own drink. Instead he was frozen, his eyes riveted on her left hand clasped around the whisky glass.

“I thought you were separated,” he said, his voice a flat monotone.

"I am," she said. She'd told Will she needed space, time to think things through. He'd graciously given it to her. He'd always given her what she needed, if not what she wanted. 

“But you’re still wearing your ring.”

Lacey looked down at the offending piece of jewelry, the silver band winking in the lamplight.

“Well, yeah,” she returned. “I’m still married.”

Gold’s mouth flattened into a line his eyes not leaving her ring finger.

“Get out,” he said softly.

“What? Daniel…”

“Please,” he said, his voice trembling on the word. “Please just go.”

The pleading tone of his voice made her step back as though he’d yelled the words, rather than whispered them.

“Okay,” she said, placing her glass down on the coffee table. “You knew I was married.”

Gold just shook his head.

“I don’t want to do this again. I can’t.”

Lacey crossed her arms against her chest, suddenly feeling naked in her little camisole.

“I understand,” she said. What else could she say? She had used and abused Gold’s love and he was worried she’d do it again. She probably would do it again.

“I’m going away tomorrow,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. “And I’m not coming back until you’ve gone home to your husband. I trust you can see yourself out. Goodbye, Lacey.”

Without sparing her another glance he stalked out of the room and down the hall toward the back of the house, the echoing bang of a door slamming following his disappearance.

Lacey was left with nothing to do but gather her coat before stepping back out into the cold, the autumn night feeling so much more bitter than when she’d arrived a mere hour ago.


End file.
